


needy

by hqkrys



Category: Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Touch-Starved, self-conscious clark kent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-18 16:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21580801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hqkrys/pseuds/hqkrys
Summary: Clark hadn’t seen Bruce in three weeks and he was feeling a little touch-starved if he was being honest with himself.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 32
Kudos: 417
Collections: DC Universe





	needy

Clark restrained himself from letting out a whoop of joy as he flew toward Gotham. He had been on a mission with Diana off-planet last week and when he had finally returned, he found out from Alfred that Bruce had Wayne Enterprise business in Japan. Though he could’ve easily found out where Bruce was staying at, Clark didn’t want to overstep his boundaries and suddenly  _ show up  _ halfway across the world simply because he  _ missed  _ his boyf— _ Bruce _ . His Bruce. Clark didn’t think Bruce was one for sentimentalism.

His partner ( _ his _ partner, he thought giddily,  _ in every sense of the word _ ) had been gone for almost two weeks, so when Bruce called him that morning saying he’d be arriving at Wayne Manor later that night, Clark had been  _ ecstatic _ . He left work early which earned him a suspicious eye from Lois, but he couldn’t find it within himself to care at the moment. When he returned home, he showered and changed (four times) into something suitable and then proceeded to burn tracks into the apartment floor from his non-stop pacing. There was too much pent-up energy in him, so Clark changed into his Superman uniform and made himself patrol for at least an hour before he flew back home, showered once more, and slipped on a flannel and some worn jeans. It was still early (for Batman’s standards)—just barely eight—but Clark stretched his hearing until he could find Bruce’s leisurely-paced heartbeat within Gotham’s radius. That gave him all the encouragement he needed to take off toward Wayne Manor. 

He landed quietly on the balcony outside of Bruce’s private study within a matter of seconds. Pausing to listen to the sounds within the manor, Clark heard Alfred tidying up in the kitchen and Bruce typing on his laptop. No sign of the Batkids, so they must have gone out on patrol already. With a quick breath, Clark opened the balcony doors and stepped inside. 

The study was dimly lit, the main source of light coming from Bruce’s laptop, highlighting the man’s features and Clark couldn’t help the soft smile that took over his face. 

Bruce didn’t look up. “Clark. Didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

Clark deflated at the reserved tone but didn’t let that deter him. He hadn’t seen Bruce in  _ three weeks _ , and he was feeling a little touch-starved if he was being honest with himself. Walking over to Bruce’s desk, Clark floated beside the man when he got close enough to his chair. There were no other seats in the study other than the couch, but that was much too far from where Bruce was seated and, right now, all Clark wanted was his proximity. 

“You called me earlier, I thought it was an…invitation,” he said. 

Bruce grunted in acknowledgment (agreement?), but continued his rapid typing, only pausing to write something on a piece of paper. 

Clark bit his lip, mortification at his own behavior growing at an alarming rate, but even that didn’t stop him from pulling on Bruce’s sleeve, effectively drawing his attention away from the work he had in front of him. 

Bruce blinked at the blushing journalist. “Clark? Is there something wrong?”

If possible, Clark’s blush intensified and he couldn’t find it within himself to meet the man’s gaze. “No, I just—can I have a kiss?”

Bruce stared. “What.” 

Clark wilted a bit at the emotionlessness of Bruce’s face but repeated, cautiously, “Can I have a kiss? Please? I—I missed you.” His eyes focused on the wall beside Bruce’s head while he asked. 

So absorbed in burning a (metaphorical) hole in the wall, Clark startled when he felt Bruce’s warm lips press a fleeting kiss on his cheek. 

“There.” Bruce sat back in his chair and turned back to his laptop, looking for all the world uninterested in Clark’s presence. “Is there anything else you need? I’ve got some contracts to look over from our partnership with Japan.”

Humiliated now with his demand, Clark jolted and landed heavily on his feet. “I—sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you; I assumed you wouldn’t be busy right after your trip and I thought we could—I mean, it doesn’t matter. Not anymore. I’ll just show myself out, yeah?” 

He wanted to shoot across the room and possibly continue hurling himself straight into the Sun’s core, but Clark forced himself to drift at a steady pace. Internally, he laughed self-deprecatingly at his own clinginess, his back to Bruce. Clark curled into himself as headed toward the balcony, cursing himself for making his neediness so obvious to Bruce. The Bat thrived in solitude and probably expected his partners to respect that. Clark obviously didn’t understand, their relationship being so new, but now he realized the selfishness of his expectations and vowed to keep away from Bruce until the man called on Clark himself. 

“Clark.” He froze at Bruce’s voice, not wanting to ignore the man but unwilling to turn around in fear that Bruce would take one look at his face and  _ know _ . “What’s wrong?”

“I—nothing.” Tentatively, he peered over his shoulder and gave Bruce what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I just remembered I had a deadline for a piece—” due in two  _ weeks _ ; Clark had made sure to finish all his assignments early when he heard of Bruce’s return so he could be free, “—o I should head home. Sorry for dropping in so suddenly. I’ll let you get back to it.” 

“ _ Clark _ .”

Pretending to not have heard him, Clark hurriedly opened the door to the balcony and only managed a step or two out before a large hand wrapped around his bicep and forced him to turn around. Though Clark could’ve easily escaped Bruce’s grip, it was—and this was embarrassingly pathetic—the first time Bruce had touched him in nearly a month and he really shouldn’t have felt as much joy as he did when Bruce took hold of his other arm. In the back of his mind, Clark was chastising himself for not noticing when Bruce had even got out of his chair. 

“Clark,” he repeated, arctic eyes pinning him in place ( _ and entirely focused on him _ , Clark couldn’t help but giddily think). “What’s wrong? Tell me. Please.”

At the plea, Clark caved, dropping his gaze shamefully to stare at Bruce’s tie. It was an Ediety knot today, he absently noted. “Nothing’s  _ wrong _ —”

“The truth, Clark.”

His eyes shot up at that, face flushing at having been seen through so easily. “Bruce,” he said weakly. “You—you don’t have to worry about me.”

One of Bruce’s hands left Clark’s arm, leaving a part of his skin feeling heated and already missing his warmth. Bruce cupped his chin, tilting it up so their faces were level. This close, Clark could count his individual lashes and his breath caught as Bruce’s eyes became half-lidded. Despite that, he could see when Bruce’s gaze flickered to his lips for a second and his flush turned into a full-on blush. 

Clearing his throat, Clark attempted to push out of Bruce’s embrace. “Listen, you don’t owe me anything, okay?”

Bruce pressed his lips against Clark’s suddenly and, had it not been for his invulnerability, Clark would’ve surely gained a split lip with the force of the kiss. One of Bruce’s hands rose from the grip he had on his arm to grasp his chin while the other wrapped around the small of his back. Clark gasped as Bruce pulled him tighter against his body. Bruce took advantage of that, licking into his mouth with such a strong air of propriety that Clark’s toes curled and he felt himself shudder against the man. 

“ _ Bruce _ ,” he sighed into the billionaire’s mouth and looped his arms around his neck, his fingertips entwining themselves with the hair on Bruce’s nape. Clark probably looked like a contradicting fool, but he had  _ missed this _ . Missed  _ him _ . 

Bruce only pushed him further into the door, his knee coming up and shoving between Clark’s thighs, eliciting a groan from the super. “A-ah, Bruce—please,  _ please _ ,” he murmured incoherently, desperately trying to grind against Bruce’s well-muscled thigh. Desire unfurled slowly in his gut, the heat coursing in his veins as searing as his own laser-vision. 

Bruce abruptly pulled back, leaving Clark confused and leaning forward to chase his lover’s mouth. “ _ Bruce _ —”

“You can ask me for anything, you know that, right?” Those silver-blue eyes were trained on him and Clark floundered at the non-sequitur. The billionaire bent forward, his gaze dropping to Clark’s lips so swiftly that if Clark hadn’t slowed down the moment, he would have completely missed it. Deliberately biting his lip, Clark watched as Bruce’s blue eyes darkened and he felt a shameful amount of pride in himself at having gotten such a strong reaction out of the man with the small action.

“I know.” Clark’s hands sloped up from Bruce’s neck to cup his jaw, caress those lovely cheekbones. Bruce leaned into the touch, turning his head partially to plant a lingering kiss on his palm and Clark suddenly felt nonsensically touch-starved.    
“I missed you,” he admitted. To his surprise (and utter delight), Bruce’s face pinked at Clark’s words and the corners of his mouth pulled up into a breathtaking, rare grin. Not the Bruce Wayne over-the-top beam nor Batman’s victorious smirk, but just as charming and twice as heartfelt. His earlier lust morphed into something softer, into silent, content infatuation. 

Clark’s heart fluttered when Bruce whispered back, “I missed you, too.” He (barely) restrained from launching himself at Bruce and covering his absurdly handsome face with kisses. It was ridiculous for him, a fully-grown man, to be so—to be this overly invested in his partner this early in their relationship. He needed to get a grip, to back off and give some space before Bruce got sick of him and left him for someone more controlled, someone who fit Bruce better and—

He was startled out of his musings when Bruce stepped back and began tugging him toward the lone couch in his study. Bruce laid on top of the chaise lounge, maneuvering Clark until he ended up between Bruce’s legs, his back against Bruce’s chest, head comfortably resting on a broad shoulder. Bruce’s strong arms wrapped around him, tugging him impossibly close, and Clark automatically reached up to cover the hands around his waist with his own. 

This couldn’t possibly be comfortable for him, seeing as how Clark was well over six foot tall and two hundred (and some) pounds. He attempted to lean forward to take some weight off of Bruce, but the man merely scoffed and pulled him firmly back into his chest. 

Warm breath caressed his ear as Bruce murmured, “How are you?”

Clark turned his head to meet his partner’s eyes. “I—Bruce, you-you don’t have to force yourself to do this if you’re busy, I—”

A pair of lips pressed into the crook of his neck, Bruce’s light stubble tickling him. “I haven’t seen you in nineteen days, fifteen hours, twenty-four minutes and—” Bruce lifted his arm as he checked the Rolex on his wrist, “—two seconds. I want to catch up on everything that I’ve missed while I was gone.” A shadow passed over his face as Bruce grappled with his next few words. “I know I’m not…the best at relationships. I’ve never allowed myself to become so intimate with another person…emotionally speaking. I had no interest in pursuing a relationship with anybody I bedded. Even if someone did catch my eye, I knew I could never become too close with them; my secret is far too dangerous for any innocent civilian to know.”

Clark’s heart swelled at the knowledge that he had Bruce’s trust, that he allowed himself to confide something so personal about the enigma behind the Bruce Wayne persona. He smiled as he reached up to cradle Bruce’s face. “Good thing I’m not just your ordinary civilian then, huh?” Clark twisted in Bruce’s embrace until they were lying chest to chest, Bruce easily bearing the majority of Clark’s weight without any complaint. His smile grew. “And you’re not just any ordinary human.”

Moonlight filtered through the curtain and seemed to form around Bruce like a halo. His eyes had lightened at Clark’s words and they shined brighter than any jewel as he squeezed Clark’s waist before resting their foreheads together. 

“Care about you,” he mumbled, his normally sharp, assessing gaze soft and warm. “Sorry I don’t show it enough sometimes.” 

Clark tilted his face upwards and gave him a light peck on his lips, indescribably happy. “I care about you, too. And…you always make up for it. Now kiss me.” 

And he did. Over and over and over and over again. Until Clark’s worries and insecurities faded away and all he could think about was kissing Bruce back.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello~  
> Please give me feedback on this. I feel like maybe Clark was a bit OOC, but I loveeeee needy Clark and his bb Bruce reassuring him :')  
> Thank you so much for reading~  
> MW


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